


The Heart of Saturday Night

by JackTheMellow



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: 1970s, Alastor Has Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Barflies, Detroit, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Fist Fights, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Mugging, POV First Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28065303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackTheMellow/pseuds/JackTheMellow
Summary: "it’s not the large things that send a man to the madhouse. Death, he’s ready for. Or murder, incest, robbery, fire, flood… No, it’s the continuing series of small tragedies that send a man to the madhouse… Not the death of his love, but a shoelace that snaps with no time left …" -Charles BukowskiWhen life has done nothing but hand you the shaft ever since you got on the plane to Vietnam, you tend to not expect things to go right. Well, Alastor didn't expect what's coming to him.Based on an album by Tom Waits
Relationships: Alastor/Charlie Magne, Husk/Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	1. New Coat of Paint

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy, I'm Jack! I'm the writer of this here fic. This fic is my baby, I’ve been working on it since March. I recommend listening to this song before reading this (I’m kinda bummed that this isn’t on Spotify): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=54rP5gLVMBM
> 
> Here's the album this fic is based on: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_nuPH_FkjAcu9mUefX549hIaBruABIEol0
> 
> All characters belong to Vivziepop, I'm just a fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's put a new coat of paint on this lonesome old town  
> Set 'em up, we'll be knockin' em down  
> You wear a dress, baby, and I'll wear a tie  
> We'll laugh at that old bloodshot moon in that burgundy sky

December 2nd, 1972, Saturday Night

It was snowing when I arrived at the bar. I sat in my Oldsmobile for a half minute, making sure I had everything in my pocket. I put on a fake smile & stepped out of the car & immediately felt some snow gently touch me. I liked the snow. It was the only thing I liked at the moment. I felt it flutter down into my hair & onto my shoulders. My ears were freezing. I looked at the outer wall of the old tavern. It looked older than sand. The neon sign said ‘John’s.’ I lit a Kent & rubbed my chin, feeling my whiskers. I hadn’t shaved in a week or so, I forget how long. I walked around the bend from the parking lot to the front door. I felt the snow crunch beneath my feet. I opened the door. A whole pile of snow from the roof fell right on my head. I shook it off my head, tried not to let it affect my mood, & walked in. My ears weren’t freezing anymore. It smelled like cigarette smoke & bottom of the shelf rum. ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ was playing over the speakers, I forgot we were nearing Christmas, I didn’t really celebrate it. I walked through a nicotine cloud into the main room & saw Husk sitting at the bar. Husk was in his oil-covered General Motors jumpsuit & a jacket. Husk had a scar on his cheek from when he and I were in… well, I don’t feel like talking about that place. Just know I wouldn’t send my worst enemy there. I sat down in between him & Anthony. “3 shots of scotch & water,” I said. “Kay,” Mumbles mumbled. He poured the three shots & gave them to me, Husk, & Anthony. All three of us drank it down in one gulp. “Thank ya, Al,” Anthony said. Anthony was not the best fellow, but I didn’t really mind him. His voice was high pitched & he spoke quickly. “How the hell are ya,” Husk said. Husk, by contrast, had a rough, deep voice & spoke slowly. “Same way I’m always doing.”

“Sorry for askin’, Al.”

“It’s fine. You?”

“Same way _I’m_ always doin’.”

“Sorry for asking _you_ then.”

Anthony lit a cigarette. He smoked menthol Marlboros. I turned away, I can’t stand the scent of menthol cigarettes. I looked over next to the one-armed bandits, and in the corner-booth sat a pretty woman reading a book. She had golden-blonde hair, pale skin, & was wearing an expensive red dress. I could tell she wasn’t from here. She wasn’t big the way Mimzy, my ex-wife, was, but I liked that. I couldn’t see her behind, but I’m guessing it was nice. Most women's behinds are nice. Anthony bought a bottle of beer & stood up & sat down in the other corner booth. Husker bought a bottle, ripped the cork out with his teeth, & drank down most of the bottle in a minute. “I think you have a bit of a drinking problem there, Husker.”

“No, I don’t. _You’re_ the one with the drinking problem.”

“The pot said to the kettle.”

He rolled his eyes, “I still don’t have one.”

“Really.”

“Yeah. In fact, the only time I _do_ got a drinking problem is when I _can’t_ get a drink.”

I was annoyed. I turned away & took another look at the woman. She was looking back at me. She turned away as soon as we made eye contact. I smirked & Husk said, “I think you gotta secret admirer over there.”

“It’s no secret, Husker.”

“Go talk to her.”

“No, not yet.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a routine, a whole song & dance, you must not rush it.”

“You’ve done nothing but rush as long as I’ve known you.”

“Last time I rushed, she ran off with a miniature painter.”

“I guess ya got a point.”

I looked back at her. We made eye contact again. Her eyes were like steaming-hot cups of coffee. She was blushing & turned away. I lit a Kent & looked into the mirror behind the bar. I ran my fingers over my hair on their way to rub the back of my neck, feeling the hair back there. “Is Niffty in?” I asked.

“How am I s’posed to know?”

I took out my pack of Kents & saw it was empty, I put it with the other 3 empty packs in my pocket. I looked over at the woman, her book was closed, set to the side & we made eye contact again. She looked away even slower than before. I think she was enjoying our playing of this game. This wolf liked scaring the little doe back into the deep of the forest. “Are you gonna go fucking talk to her or what?”

“Not quite yet.”

“Why not?”

“You're saying this only to make me go.”

“For Christs’ sakes, Al, I’m not gonna recite _Casablanca_ with you.”

“Damn.”

I stood up and laid a few dollars on the bar. Mumbles took them. I walked over to the cigarette machine. Kents were 50 cents a pack. I walked over to the woman (she was blushing & looked flustered) & asked, “Pardon me, dear, do you have change for a dollar?”

She rummaged through her purse & pulled out 4 quarters. She handed them to me. “Thank you, my dear.”

I walked over & got two packs. I walked back to her & handed her one of the packs, “I hope you like Kents,” I said.

“Thanks,” she had this beautiful softness to her voice.

“Would you mind if I sat with you?”

“Not really.”

I sat down across from her, “What are you reading?”

“It’s this book about this guy & his friends who travel all over the country.”

“What’s it called?” I asked. I propped my head upon my arm.

“ _On the Road_.”

“Hrm, I’ll look it up.”

“What’s your name?”

“Alastor LaMothe, my dear. What’s yours?”

“Charlie, Charlie Magne.”

I saw images. Horrid, horrid images of Rodriguez’s corpse. I suppressed the images & said, “Such a beautiful name, it fits you perfectly.”

She blushed, “Thanks, Al. It’s okay if I call you ‘Al’, right?”

“Whatever you want, dear.” I bent one of my legs & laid it over the other.

“Thanks,” She said.

She pulled out a cigarette from her pack, tried to light it, her lighter didn’t work. “Got a light?”

I pulled out a cigarette from my pack & lit both of ours. “Thanks, Al.”

We both took a puff. I looked over at Husker, he was sitting with a Hispanic woman on the other side of the bar. Niffty came round with two menus under one arm & had a rag & some soap in a plastic spray bottle in her other hand. Niffty was a little woman, about 4’10, she was in her late 40’s & had been married so many times that she had rice marks all over her face (you know the kind). She leaned over the table & sprayed & wiped it down right in front of us, “Sorry the place is so dirty, it really needs a lady’s touch.”

“It’s just fine, Niffty dear,” I said.

She handed us the menus & looked back & forth at me & Charlie with her one good eye (the other one was lazy) & said “Sorry, what will you guys be having to drink?”

“You know how I like my liquor, darling.”

“Right, Al,” she turned to Charlie & said, “& what about you?”

“Some Fuller’s, please.”

“Coming right up!”

She walked off. “Do you know her?”

“We’re good friends.”

“Huh.”

Things got rather quiet as we looked through our menus. Wishing for the silence to end, I asked “So, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in Motor City?”

“I'm a graduate student at the university.”

“Where’d you get your undergrad?”

She propped her head upon the table, “University of Kentucky, I’m from Louisville.”

She pulled out another cigarette, I lit it for her, she looked me in the eyes. Her eyes were this beautiful brown but they had these little spots of yellow in them. Her gaze was strangely comforting. After about a second of just gazes between the two of us, I asked “And why’d you choose this specific dive to come into?”

“It looked interesting.”

“Hmm. The people here do interest someone. Who though, I have no clue.”

She laughed. She had a nice laugh. A wonderful laugh. “You know, Charlie-Dear, I was once walking down the street & stopped & saw this shop on the corner of Poplar & John, the sign said ‘Nick’s Used Erotica.’”

She burst out with laughter. I liked her laughter. 

“I stopped everything & took a second look at it & thought, ‘Who cleans it? Are they licensed? Who used it? How used is it?’ & I’m not sure what would be scarier: knowing the answers or _not_ knowing the answers.”

She put her hand over her mouth while she laughed as if she was trying to hide her laughter as if she should be ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, my dear.”

Niffty came back with our drinks & said “What’ll we be having?” as she licked her finger & turned the page on her notepad.

“Oh, no, Niffty dear. I’m not planning on having supper here, darling.”

“Alright, Al,” she then turned to Charlie & said, “Are you gonna eat here?”

“No thanks.”

“Okay, who’ll pick up the bill?”

Before Charlie said anything, I said “I will.”

“Are ya sure, Al? I mean, I could cover you if you need.”

“I mean this in the most polite way possible, Niffty dear: I don’t need your handouts.”

“Alright, Al.”

Charlie had this sad look in her eyes & said “Really, Al, I can pay.”

“Nonsense, dear. You needn’t do such a thing.”

I paid the bill & we finished our drinks. We stood up & walked out the door into the snow. It was 10 degrees below 0. The only light was from the neon signs of the striptease shows & other bars around the area. Those & the occasional working street lamp. The streets themselves were as lonely as a parking lot when the last car drives off. She was shivering. We stopped, I took off my trench coat & put it around her shoulders.

“Thanks, Al.”

“My pleasure, cuteness.”

She looked up at me with her Maxwell House eyes. For the first time in years, I felt calm with her. I felt like I wasn’t in Saigon anymore. And right when I thought it couldn’t get any better, she leaned in & kissed me. She closed her eyes & I felt her arms around my neck. She closed the distance between our bodies. I put my arms around her waist & leaned into it. She pulled away from me & put our foreheads together, she smiled that beautiful smile & giggled. We started walking again. We walked in front of a pizza house called ‘Napoleone’s.’ 

“Shall we head in, cuteness?”

“Yeah.”

We walked in. It was warm inside. The pizza house was messy & dark, with brick walls & dark red booths. The floor was sticky. “What do you want?” she asked.

“Whatever you’re having.”

“You don’t even know what I’m having.”

“Whatever you’re having, I’m sure I can stomach it.”

“Is that a bet?” she said with a devilish smile on her face.  
“Sure,” I lit another cigarette.

“Okay,” she said before walking off towards the cashier (there was no one in line, save for an old man). I walked over to a booth & wiped it down with a handkerchief. I sat down on one side & pulled the ashtray over to myself as I finished that cigarette. She came & sat down across from me. She didn’t say anything, I didn’t say anything. We just looked one another in the eyes & smoked our cigarettes. The pizza came with two bottles of Coca-Cola. It was pineapple pizza. “You like pineapple pizza?” I asked.

“Yeah,” She said smugly.

“I love pineapple pizza.”

She didn’t look quite so smug now, “I thought I was the only one,” she said timidly.

“So did I.”

We both grabbed a slice & bit in. It tasted heavenly. I took a swig of Coca-Cola, that didn’t taste so heavenly (I drank it anyway). After the pie was finished, I sat back, put my hands behind my head, & said “That was a damn good pizza.”

“Yeah.”

“May I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

I snickered & smirked. She was clever. Very clever. “May I ask you _two_ somethings then?”

“Alright.”

“Would you like to go to dinner in a week or so?”  
“That sounds really nice,” she grabbed a napkin & went fiddling through her purse for a pen. She wrote her number down on the napkin & slid it over to me. She handed me the pen & I did the same with a different napkin. I put it in the pocket of my dress jacket, she put it in her purse, & we stood up. Together, we walked out into the snows and towards the bar, “Could you drive me home? My friend dropped me off here,” she said.  
“Of course, dear.”

We got back to the bar’s parking lot, she followed me over to my car. I opened the door for her & she jumped in, “Ooh! You have an 8-track player!”

I got in on the other side & said “Yes indeedy, dearest.”

I pressed down the clutch with my foot & put it in reverse before driving out of there. “Where do you live?”

“A few blocks from here.”

“Alright, dear.”

We got over onto the street & I hit a red light as soon as I was about to pass through an intersection. “Damn,” I said & lit a cigarette, “Every time you’re about to go through, it gives you a red.”

“Damn straight,” she said & giggled afterward.

“Do you want a cigarette?” I asked her.

“Sure,” she said. I pulled the pack out of my shirt pocket & handed her one & lit it. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure, dear.”

We drove down the street & she said “Right here, Al.”

I pulled over in front of the building. She kissed me & said “Thanks, Al.”

I kissed her back & said, “Anytime, dear.”

We started necking. I started kissing her neck, she softly moaned. My kisses moved farther south towards her breasts, she said “Ah, Al, I gotta head in.”

I pulled myself away from her & said “Right, sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

She grabbed her purse & opened the door & stepped out & started walking towards the building. I rolled down the window & said “See you later, beautiful!”

“Goodnight, Al,” she said. I drove back to the parking garage across the street from my apartment complex. I locked the car, walked in, & unlocked my mailbox on the bottom floor of my apartment complex. It was by the docks on the river. It was close enough to where I could feel the tide going in and out, in and out, but I didn't actually see the river. There was too much smog and too many buildings. I lived in the third room on the right on the second floor. James, who lived in the room right next to mine (the fourth room, not the second), walked to his mailbox & said “I had steak tonight, Al. What did you have?”

“If I were the Federal Express man, I’d be having your wife.”

I took my mail & went before he said anything. I unlocked the door to my apartment & forced it open (the door was stiff). It was a small place with about 3 rooms, a bedroom, bathroom, & kitchen/living room. It was halfway between neat & messy. I sat in my soft, red chair, put on ‘White Christmas’ by Bing Crosby, & went through my mail. Two bills & a letter from Memphis. It was from Rosie, strangely. I opened it. A piece of paper sat inside, taped shut. I undid the tape (partly ripping the paper) & 100 dollars in 5s & 10s & 20s fell out. I examined the letter, it read as follows:

_November 26th, 1972_

_Dear Alastor,_

_I feel it is my duty to assist you in any way possible. I know being a radioman doesn’t pay as well as you could be making, & Mimzy isn’t around to assist you in paying for things, so I have sent you something that will hopefully make this time of year a slight bit easier for you. I know it is but 100 dollars, but I simply cannot spare anymore without going hungry myself. _

_I miss you, Alastor. I wish to speak with you once again, for I feel you are my only intellectual equal. Franklin is a simply wonderful man, but I feel you are the only person with I can truly speak my mind. I do not long for your touch like when we were young, but I do long for our conversations, the hours we spent together. I loved it all. I regret that we never had a wedding. I would have loved to see you at the end of the aisle, a black suit upon you. I would have loved to bear a ring upon my finger for you. To have a marriage certificate. I would have loved it all, back when we were young & in love. I know we were in love for only a year, but it was the most passionate year in my life. I’m proud to tell people that you & I were once together. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I said all those rotten things to you. I’m sorry I did all those rotten things to you. I’m sorry for it all. I still love you & wish you to be happy. If you don’t reciprocate the same feelings, I understand. I hope you finally find a woman who makes you happy & will not leave you like so many before. _

_Love,_

_Rosemary Fitzgerald-Robinson_

I set it on the table beside my chair & sighed. The room began to lose color, what little color it had anyway. Everything seemed a little darker and a little lonelier, a little longer as well. A single tear in my eye formed & rolled down my cheek. My cat meowed at me from across the room, snapping me out of that trance. She was one of those black ones, she walked over to me & sat in front of me. Her name was Pearline. Pearline was sweet. She meowed at me again. I reached out to pet her, she rubbed her head against the palm of my hand. I clutched that 100 dollars with all my might in my other hand. I put the money in my pocket, walked over to her food & water bowls & filled them. She meowed at me in thanks & ate & drank it all up. Afterward, she jumped up & sat on my lap & purred as I ran my hand down her back over & over. That was when I realized Charlie still had my trench coat. I didn’t mind much though. I thought more about Charlie. How soft and warm her skin was, how wonderful her laughter sounded, the kiss we shared in the street. She was wonderful. Then I realized something, her last name was Magne. So was my CO’s. But she couldn’t be related to Luce Magne, could she? She was too nice for that.

  
I had that same rotten dream that night. I was back _there_. Me & Rodriguez were running through that goddamned jungle. He fell into a spike pit & shrieked with pain. “AL! AL!” he yelled. Blood spurted from his wounds, made by an array of bamboo spikes, piercing and poking through his skin. I ran over to him & looked down at him. He screamed & screamed. With tears in my eyes, I took my rifle & said “I’m sorry,” before pointing it at his head & squeezing the trigger. I woke up, sweating & screaming & with shaking hands, around 3 AM. My sheets were completely drenched with sweat. I stood up & felt the chilly air of my apartment on my sweat covered body. I walked over to the window and felt it. It was cold. That didn’t help the freezing feeling of my sweat covered state. I looked out the window at the streets & the bright lights of the cars & heard the honking of horns & the police sirens moaning & the fire engines screaming & the ambulances shrieking. It was a mess, but a beautiful one. It was moments like this where I truly appreciated the chaos of Detroit. The urban sprawl of Motor City was one far more familiar and comforting than the jungles of Vietnam.

But all I could think of was my job. and my boss, Tom. I walked over to my telephone and dialed a number, turning the rotary dial. 1(555) 765-4856. I held the phone to my ear. "H-hello?"

"Tom, it's Al."

"Wh-whaddya want, Al?"

"To quit. Burn in hell, Tom."

He started to jabber, but I hung up. I felt... good. I had no money for rent, but at least I wasn't under that pervert's thumb anymore. Tonight was a very good night.


	2. San Diego Serenade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I never saw the east coast 'til I moved to the west  
> I never saw the moonlight until it shone off your breast  
> I never saw your heart 'til someone tried to steal, tried to steal it away  
> I never saw your tears until they rolled down your face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there.
> 
> BTW, there's some NSFW content at the very end, it's below the line. It's like a paragraph and not that graphic, but still, feel free to skip it.

December 9th, 1972, Saturday Night

It was a week after I met that wonderful woman and quit my job. I sat at a booth in a restaurant called ‘Regioni’s.’ I don’t think ‘Regioni’ is a real Italian word or name, not to denote that I cared. Even though this Italian restaurant was owned, ran, and founded by a Jewish family, I didn’t really care. The food and drink were good and so was the service, and don’t even get me started on the music. But that wasn’t on my mind either. I was meeting Charlie again, and I was excited. For the occasion, I decided to not look like an ape and shave. It was the first time in a while I had gone without facial hair. I lit a cigarette. I took a look at my watch, it was 15 minutes past 7:30, the time when we agreed to meet. I wasn’t worried or nervous. Well, maybe a little worried, and a little nervous, but it didn’t consume me. I almost felt bad for Husker, being stuck at the bar while I’m out on a date. It was unfair. Then again, he had stuck me with the shaft more than once.

Right as the introduction to Glenn Miller’s In The Mood’ played, I saw Charlie walk around the corner to the booth in this sequined tan dress with a high thigh slit. I saw her legs and I was gone. She sat down next to me, kissed me on the cheek, and said, “You shaved!”

I propped my jaw up with my hand against the table (only to prevent my mouth from hanging open) and said, “Oh yes, dear.”

“I liked it though.”

The waitress came by. She was pretty, her brunette hair was tied in a bun behind her head. “Hi! I’m Janie, I’ll be your waitress tonight!” she said and handed us some menus.

“What should I get you to start off?”

“A glass of Wild Turkey and a glass of water, please,” I said.

“A bottle of Fuller’s, please.”

“Alright!”

She walked off. I looked back at Charlie, she was smiling her beautiful smile at me. She put one of her hands on mine. I interlaced our fingers and stroked my thumb up and down the back of her hand. Her skin there was smooth and soft and warm. We locked eyes. 

My jacket around her shoulders.

The kiss in the street.

The necking in the car.

It all came flooding back.

The next song came on, it was ‘The Door is Still Open to My Heart’ by Dean Martin. “Well, isn’t that coincidental?” I said.

She giggled. “What do you do?”

“I’m a mailman.”

“How long have you been doing that?”

I shrugged and said, “A week.”

“A week?”

“Yes, a week,” I squeezed her hand, “After I came home, after meeting you, I phoned my boss and told him to burn in hell.”

She laughed. “I wish I was brave enough to say that to my boss.”

“Really, what does he do that bothers you so?”

“He’s just an asshat.”

I laughed. The waitress came back with our drinks and some bread and olive oil and said, “Are you guys ready to order, yet?”

“Not yet,” I said.

“Me neither,” she said.

The waitress walked off. I looked back at Charlie. She had curled her hair and applied lipstick. She had this light tint to her cheeks. She took a sip of her Fullers and I did of my Wild Turkey. I broke off a piece of bread, it was soft and warm, covered it in olive oil, and took a bite. “Damn,” I said. 

“How is it?”

“Good, you should try it.”

She broke some off, covered in olive oil, and took a bite. “Damn is right,” she said and giggled. “So, tell me about being a mailman.”

“Well, there are two kinds of carriers: Substitutes, or subs, and Regulars. I’m a substitute carrier. My supervisor is an easy kind of fellow, you know? He gives us a block or two to go around and shove the Christmas cards into. Once you’re done with the block or two you have, they give you another one or two. It’s real easy...”

She just sat and listened as I explained it. Little did we  _ both _ know that my perceived ease at the post office was just a brief moment in my second round of employment for Uncle Sam. She just smiled and nodded. “The one thing I don’t like is all the freaks that work there.”

She laughed and said “Amen to that. There’s this guy at the place I work, threw a chair at our supervisor.”

“Where do you work, dearie?”

“I’m an intern at a pharmacy. I’m trying to get a degree in pharmacy at the university here.”

I took a sip of my Wild Turkey. “Why pharmacy?”

“I went to a high school with a bad opiate problem, so I figured that if better people controlled the source, there would be less of a problem.”

She took a sip, “Hrm, noble. I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“Thanks. My folks don’t support it, they say I’m too naive.”

I produced a pack of cigarettes, I offered her one. I lit both of ours. She started playing with her hair while puffing her cancer stick. “You’re not naive for thinking that. Idealistic, maybe, but not naive.”

“Thanks.”

I finished my glass. The waiters then brought another. They brought more of that bread too. I broke off another piece and bit into it. The waitress came back and asked us what we wanted. I got some fettucini, she got a caesar salad. The waitress then left. I looked back at Charlie. “Hrm, I remember you said you got your undergrad from Louisville. Are you from there?”

“Kinda. I was born in Louisville, but my folks had a farm just out of city limits.”

“Hrm. It’s to meet someone else from below the Ohio.”

“Oh? Where are you from?”

“New Orleans.”

“Really? I’ve always wanted to go there. What’s it like?”

“It’s hard to stay skinny.”

She laughed. “Dear, what do you do in your free time?”

“You mean like for fun?”

“Yes, for fun. You do have fun, don’t you?”

She laughed. “Yes, I have fun. I don’t really have free time, studying and everything.”

I slapped my forehead. “Yes, I’m sorry, I forgot, you’re in pharmaceutical school.”

“It’s fine, Al. I used to go to protests, but that’s when I was in high school. And even then I stopped because older guys always started hitting on me.”

There she went.

Right out of my arms.

And away from my love.

She didn’t know I was one of the men over in Vietnam. Maybe she didn’t have to know, at least until we were fully in love. But then again, love isn’t built off of lies and deception. It was a hard decision, at least at the time: tell her the truth and let her hate me, but perchance she’d see me as mature for being upfront. Or, never bring it up and she’ll never know, but at the cost of her stop trusting me then. Well, when I thought about it like that, it wasn’t that hard a decision. “Dear, there’s something I feel you ought to know.”   
“What is it.”

“I, uh…”

The waitress came back with our food. “Here you guys go!”

Thank god. She then walked off, but after saying, “If you guys need anything, just let me know.”

I looked back at Charlie. “So you were saying?”

“I’m a… divorcee.”

So I choked, who cares? It was my first romance in a while, I was a bit rusty. I’m not the heartbreaker I used to be, so what? It was the first date anyways, I could wait for this. And besides, I hadn’t lied to her. “I don’t care, so long as you’re not married right now.”

I sighed in relief. “It felt good to get that off my chest. Some women are turned off by that.”

“I don’t really care about your past, so long as you’re good now.”

Oh, this darling girl! I felt such a weight lifted off my shoulders. I sat up straighter. My smile became more than a facade for the first time in a while. “That’s a relief.”

I took a bite of my fettucini, it was also damn good. It had been far too long since I had come here. “Can I get a bite of yours?” she asked.

I ran some of it through with my fork, then gave her the bite. “Mmm,” she said, “That’s really good!”

“Can I get a bite of yours?”

She ran some of her salad through with her fork before giving me the bite. “Mmm, I’ve never had the salad here. I’m not much a salad man.”

“I get that. Most places don’t have good salad anyways.”

I continued eating and drinking. I finally cracked into my water. It was cool, smooth, and tasteless, just the way water ought to be. We finished dinner. I paid the bill, of course. I tipped the waitress 25 dollars. We stood up and walked out onto the street. It wasn’t snowing, but it was chilly alright. We walked along until someone decided to interrupt us. A man jumped out from the alley in front of us, he had a knife. He grabbed me by the wrist. That was the wrong decision. I did an arm drag and pulled him into a blood choke. For those unaware, an arm drag is a move where you put your hand under your opponent’s underarm and drag him to a more favorable position, hence the name ‘Arm Drag.’ and the blood choke is a move where you press the crook of your arm against your opponent’s arm, differentiating it from the regular chokehold, and then flex, cutting off the blood flow to your opponent’s brain, hence the name ‘Blood Choke.’ I held my assailant in the hold until he dropped his knife, then released him. He ran off back into the alley. Instead of being shocked or anything, she just looked at me and asked, “Was that a blood choke?”

Oh, this darling girl. Again. Now that I think about it, that’s a rather cliche line. But cliches are cliche for a reason. Anyhoo, I looked back at her. She blushed and said, “My boyfriend was captain of the wrestling team in high school.”

I laughed. We continued walking, joking and flirting. Then it occurred to me that we hadn’t the slightest idea where we were going. “Dear, do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“Nope.”

I had then recalled that I walked to Regioni’s, at the time I was living relatively close. “Dear, I live close by.”

“Good. I’m chilly.”

“When you’re dressed like that, no wonder.”

She rolled her eyes, but not in a sarcastic way or anything. She liked it. We started walking towards my apartment building. I took off my jacket and put it around her. She then kissed me on the cheek, “Thanks, Al.”

We walked along. I had my arm around her neck, she had her arm around my back. It was nice. I hoped it wasn’t just the honeymoon phase. My building was nearby. She got more handsy as we got closer and closer, not that I minded a beautiful woman touching my behind or anything. We walked in, the floor was tile and the walls glass. She walked over to the elevator, “What floor?”

“Let’s take the stairs, I live on the second.”

“Okay.”

“The elevator smells funny anyways, a woman gave birth in there.”

“Oh, gross.”

I nodded in agreement. We walked up the stairs and got to my room. We walked in, it was an absolute mess. She didn’t seem to mind when she came in and sat down on the couch. “Do you want any wine or anything?”

“Sure.”

I went and got a bottle of red wine and two glasses from the refrigerator. When I came back, I walked over to the television, turned it on, and adjusted the knobs until a rerun of  _ The Beverly Hillbillies _ was on. I went back and sat down with Charlie. I poured two glasses. She sipped on her glass and held on to me. She was warm and soft. “I hate this show,” she said.

“Why, it makes us look like hicks?”

“No, it’s not funny. I’m offended as a comedian, not a southerner.”

I shrugged and held her closed and sipped on my wine. A Kentucky Fried Chicken ad came on. Being a black man, I perked up immediately. Don’t laugh at that, you’re better than that. Now, this was before when they changed it to ‘KFC.’ Back before the Colonel died. I ran my fingers through her hair. She then looked up at me and said, “Wanna have sex?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

We then kissed. 

* * *

We finished the bottle and went to bed. I expected to throw her on the bed, mount her, and yell something at the top of my voice along the lines of, “Alright, darling, I’m going to shoot some hot, white juice all over you! I didn’t bring you back here to play chess!” But to my surprise, I was the one thrown down and mounted. She kissed me and licked me all over the face. She slowly peeled off my shirt and pants, leaving all her clothes on though. She got to my boxers and peeked through at my erection, she slowly stroked it. It felt good. She then pulled her panties to the side and let me enter her. She gave off a soft moan. She then started bouncing on me, moaning my name. “Oh, Jesus Christ! Oh, Jesus Christ!” she moaned. I don’t know how Jesus Christ always gets into such things. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, thanks for reading.
> 
> Sorry for the wait for updates, I swear I'm not dead. 
> 
> If you wanna know me or something (I don't know why), here's my Twitter: https://twitter.com/MellowThompson1

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, thanks for reading! I hope you liked it!
> 
> If you wanna get to know me personally, my Twitter is https://twitter.com/MellowThompson1


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